The Idol of Paris - BestLightNovel.com
You’re reading novel The Idol of Paris Part 9 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
As they turned into the square, Esperance stopped, clutching her aged friend by the arm. "Look there," she said.
There were two men side by side in deep conversation. Esperance had instantly recognized Count Albert and her G.o.dfather. How did Adhemar Meydieux happen to know the Secretary of the Legation?
They had just pa.s.sed the post-office, so Esperance posted her letter without being seen by either of them, and returned to the hotel. Lunch time brought together all the guests except the G.o.dfather, who would not enter until the exact minute, if he had to wait in the corridor....
He thought it witty to behave so. His hateful, stupid mind flattered itself on being original. Therefore as the half-hour began to strike he was pompously ushered in, watch in hand.
"I am here, you see, to the tick," he said noisily, kissing the forehead his G.o.ddaughter pressed forward to him. Then, turning to the waiter, "You can serve without delay," he said. "I like my food hot."
Mlle. Frahender, although she was well acquainted with the abrupt ways of the G.o.dfather, frowned at him with disapprobation. Nevertheless, thanks to Maurice, who made a point of laughing at everything Adhemar said, they had a gay luncheon, and Adhemar himself, appreciating the consideration shown for his palate, cast aside his ill humour and enjoyed with full indulgence the present hour, the savoury food and the plentiful wine.
At the end of the meal he examined the room. "On my word, my girl, they have given you the royal suite: that must come pretty expensive."
"M. Darbois," said Jean Perliez, "gave me a very liberal sum of money, with instructions to spare nothing for our little queen."
"There you have it, if that is not the exaggeration of a lover! Little Queen! You are pouring poison in continuous doses into this little head, which is already full of nonsense. Esperance will end by taking herself seriously; she is already far too dictatorial for a child of seventeen." He added to himself, "She must be corrected, I will do it myself!"
Esperance raised her eyelids, and her clear blue eyes seemed to pierce the eyeb.a.l.l.s of the foolish blunderer, until he fluttered his lashes and closed his eyes to escape the powerful silent denial of his authority.
"Very well," he said, succeeding in half opening his eyes, "look at me as much as you like, that does not keep me from distrusting you, my child. You are nice-looking, you have a pretty voice, you may some day develop some talent; but you know, your inexperience is obvious, and I am very anxious to know how you will pull through to-night."
"Do not disturb yourself, M. Meydieux, Esperance had a triumph at the last rehearsal at the Francaise." (Mlle. Frahender nodded agreement.) "I believe," Jean continued, "that she is going to receive a perfect ovation this evening."
"I believe it too," added the old lady, "and permit me to state, my dear sir, that you judge my young pupil very unfairly. She is just as modest, just as gentle, as she was a year ago, and those who love her may be well rea.s.sured of that fact. Since you are among them," she went on boldly, "you should realize it and rejoice in it."
Adhemar shrugged his shoulders. "They are all mad, even the old saint!"
They left the table. He stopped before a basket of flowers. "Who sent you those, my child?"
"Count Albert Styvens," replied Jean.
"Ah! He does things well," commented Adhemar, but he did not breathe a word concerning his conversation with the Count that morning.
Before there was time for a reply a waiter entered with a card. "M.
Mounet-Sully would like to come up."
"Oh! yes," cried out the young artist with delight.
A little startled at finding five people in the room, Mounet-Sully regained his a.s.surance as he recognized Jean and Maurice.
"My dear child, we rehea.r.s.e at two-thirty," he said to Esperance, "so be prompt, because we have heard that the Queen will be there, though you may not see her. She is not well enough to come out in the evening."
The young girl blushed with excitement. "It is fortunate that I shall not see her, I think that I should be paralyzed!"
"Perhaps she will send for you after the rehearsal," returned the tragedian. "She is a patroness of art, and very kind to artists."
"Will His Majesty, King Leopold, come this evening?" demanded Meydieux, with great interest.
"Certainly," Mounet-Sully a.s.sured him.
Then, as he was about to go, he turned, "Have you received your invitation for...?"
The door opened. Count Albert, being introduced by the _maitre d'hotel_, had heard the last words.
"I am just delivering it myself," he said, handing Mlle. Frahender a card which she read to Esperance--"His Excellence, the Count de Bernecourt, Minister of Belgium to France, and the Princess, hope that Mlle. Frahender and Mlle. Esperance Darbois will join them for supper after the play, at midnight, at their house."
"But I cannot accept without the permission of my father," said Esperance.
The raucous and heavy voice of the G.o.dfather p.r.o.nounced, "I will a.s.sume the responsibility. Your mother encouraged me to watch over you. I consider that this is an honour which you should not decline."
"Especially as His Majesty the King will have you presented," replied the Count.
"Nevertheless," said Esperance, "I want my father's approval. I will go down and telephone to Paris."
"I will accompany you," said the diplomat quickly.
She stopped short, and her expression implied distress. Jean went forward at once. "I will go and secure the connection for you," he said; "I will wait for you downstairs."
The Count made a scarcely perceptible gesture, as if to stop him; but he restrained himself and followed the girl in silence out of the room. He rang, the lift stopped before them, empty. Albert Styvens went forward, but Esperance drew back, and then she said, quickly, "I will go down by the stairs."
And light as a breath, she was gone.
Alone in the lift, the young Count felt for a moment abashed, but he speedily recovered himself, and when Esperance reached the bottom of the stairs she found him waiting for her.
As she leaped down the last step, she again felt herself lifted and deposited upon her feet.
"What are you doing?" she cried angrily, startled and offended.
The rapid half-embrace had been almost brutal. Esperance could still feel on her delicate skin the pressure of the man's strong fingers.
He apologized, and was sincerely repentant. He had acted without reflection; he had forgotten his great strength which had this time served him ill. He was violently attracted by this charming little creature, with whom he admitted to himself that he was deeply in love; he, who up to this time had always avoided women as if he feared them.
The telephonic communication was lengthy. Francois Darbois gave his consent to his daughter to attend the supper. Madame Darbois was distracted, and must find out what dress Esperance would wear.
"I will keep on my costume from the last act of _Hernani_," she answered, and after a gentle farewell, Esperance hastened to the theatre for the rehearsal.
The Director of the Monnaie announced that Her Majesty had come and that they could begin. Hugo's masterpiece was magnificently presented.
The greatest artists filled even minor roles. Mounet-Sully surpa.s.sed himself, and Esperance drew cries of admiration from that select but critical audience.
Count Albert was seated in the orchestra stalls with his mother. The Countess Styvens, widowed after five years, had bestowed upon her son all the affection she had cherished for her husband. She had never left him, but had had him educated under her own supervision, giving him at the age of nine, as tutor, a Jesuit who was one of the most austere, if also one of the most learned, of the Order. The young man was a perfect pupil, studious, ever disdaining the pleasures of his age. His childhood pa.s.sed in the grey and pious atmosphere in which his mother steeped herself. His youth developed under the rule of his preceptor, a pale youth, without laughter, without aspirations. The physicians had never been able to persuade the Countess to let her son have the joy of travel of sea and mountain, so he had to be satisfied with the physical exercises she permitted. So he gave himself up to gymnastics with enthusiasm, expending his youthful vigour against his drill professor, and the j.a.panese who taught him jiu-jitsu. The boy's strength became quite remarkable. But his pale face, disproportionately long arms, and reputation for austerity, had made him the mark, from the very first days of his diplomatic career, for the gossips, ballad makers, and authors of questionable cabaret skits.
The day he heard that he was serving as Turk's head in a Brussels music-hall, he went instantly behind the scenes of the theatre and demanded to see the Director, who was in conversation with the author of the piece. He went right up to them. "I," he said, raising his hat politely, "am Count Albert Styvens. I shall be very glad to have you suppress the scene, which, I understand, is intended to caricature me."
The Manager, a prosperous brewer, who had become proprietor of a theatre for the pleasure of producing revues, which if not witty were certainly vulgar, shrugged his heavy shoulders.
"You expect me to lose money! That act is one of the best we have got."
"And you, sir?" Albert turned on the author, a man of doubtful reputation, always on the alert for any occasion of scandal in others.